


How Life Can Be

by KoharuVeddette



Series: The End of Fate [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Before the Third Task, Book reading, Books, Chapter 1, Dursley Family Bashing (Harry Potter), Fix It, Fourth Year, Indulging my inner fangirl, Mild Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Protective Hermione Granger, Reading the Books, The Vanishing Glass, The boy who lived, Time Travel, chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-09-02 10:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoharuVeddette/pseuds/KoharuVeddette
Summary: When a stranger appears before Hogwarts in the days before the Third Task, he sets the future on its head. Lives will be saved, lessons will be learned, and maybe, just maybe, Harry Potter will be saved from his own fate.





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. I am simply writing this to fulfill a little bit of a fangirl need in my heart.

As the third task of the Triwizard Tournament drew nearer and nearer for Harry Potter, he couldn’t help but feel that something bad was going to happen. He wasn’t sure exactly what it would be, but his luck always made bad things happen when he least needed them to. He was absolutely sure, as he and Ron headed down to breakfast all of three days before the final task, that whatever was going to happen during the task was just going to make the last two tasks feel like child’s play, though he had to admit that child’s play for him had never been simple and easy with a mass murdering dictator always coming after his life.  
  
“Oi, Harry,” Ron called to him, drawing his attention to the Great Hall and away from his thoughts on his impending doom. Harry’s jaw dropped considerably when he saw past the swarm of students that seemed to be taking up a majority of the aisles, most of them being Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs from the looks of their robes. There, at the center of the crowd, was one Remus Lupin good naturedly fielding questions with a gentle smile on his face and an excited Padfoot jumping around his heels, barking at the students like he was wanting to talk to them too.  
  
“P-Padfoot!” Harry called out in surprise, rushing to get through the crowd so he could see his disguised Godfather. Padfoot barked happily and jumped to him as soon as Harry made it through the barricade of students. Padfoot joyfully licked Harry’s face in greeting, showing more love in his greeting than Harry received for days at a time. Harry couldn’t help but to laugh and hug his Godfather close, all dark thoughts dissipating at having Sirius so close to him when he needed his father-figure more than ever.  
  
“Hello Harry,” Lupin greeted with a soft laugh, admiring the look of absolute joy on the young man’s face that could have mirrored his father’s very same look if Harry had been just a hair darker in skin tone. Harry grinned up at Lupin as best as he could with Padfoot still licking at his face.  
  
“What are you doing here, Professor?” Hermione, who had managed to break through the crowd with the help of Ron’s bulky shoulders, asked in a delighted tone, knowing better than most what a wonderful surprise this was for Harry.  
  
“We were invited here by Dumbledore,” Lupin explained simply, reaching over Harry and Padfoot to shake Ron’s hand in greeting. “Apparently he has an important announcement to make and wanted us to be here for it.”  
  
“It must have to do with the Tournament,” Hermione guessed with a smile as Harry finally got to his feet, though he kept a hand on Padfoot as if to keep himself reminded that Padfoot was still there.  
  
“Students!” Professor McGonagall called from the Head Table, drawing people’s attention from the scene the adults were making in the middle of the Great Hall. “Please take your seats!”  
  
There was a shuffling of students to get to their House tables, none of them wanting to draw the wrath of McGonagall upon themselves. Lupin hesitated for just a moment before he followed after Padfoot to sit at the Gryffindor table with Harry and his closest friends. Once the Hall was still and silent once again, Dumbledore stood up to address the students of all three schools with a strange smile on his face.  
  
“Now, I am sure all of you are wondering about the third task that is to take place in three days time,” he said calmly, his voice nothing more than a conversational tone though it echoed off the walls and even the furthest students could hear each word clearly. A soft murmur broke out across the Hall from excited students before they were quickly hushed by their impatient friends wanting to hear more from Dumbledore. “But, we will have to put the final task from our minds for now.”  
  
“He can’t be cancelling the Tournament,” Ron muttered to Harry in disbelief. “Not when you are so close to winning.”  
  
“Hush and we might find out,” Hermione snapped at him quietly, her eyes not leaving Dumbledore as if studying his face would lead to some sort of clue to what he was going to say.  
  
Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what the students were whispering about as he chuckled before continuing on.  
  
“Do not be mistaken, the Triwizard Tournament will finish,” he told them in a more serious tone than he normally used when addressing the students, causing many to instantly pay closer attention to the announcement. “We only mean to take a short break as something more vital has come to my attention as of last night. I will now turn to our guest to tell you more about these new events.”  
  
Attention turned to Lupin and Padfoot for a moment before the door just off the Hall opened and a young man strode out with a short stack of books tucked under his arm. The young man was tall and confident, his head held high and shoulders back as if he didn’t mind a whole three schools worth of students were staring at him in wonder. He strode right up to Dumbledore and passed over the series of books before turning to address the students himself.  
  
“Everyone, my name in Edward, though most people call me Teddy,” he introduced with a wicked grin. “And I come from the future, about twenty years into the future to be exact.”  
  
“Th-That’s impossible,” someone cried out as if representing the rest of the students, who all seemed to be in various levels of disbelief at what the stranger was telling them.  
  
“Well it is with your current understanding of how magic works, but the Ministry has been hard at work for decades in order to figure out time travel,” Teddy explained to them with a thoughtful expression. “I can’t really tell you how it works, since that’ll affect that course of history and be a serious break in the rules of my mission, but I assure you that it is completely possible in my time.”  
  
“Prove it!” called Fred and George, standing partially so they could try to see the time traveler better. Teddy seemed to jump at the twins’ call before he turned a sad look onto the pair. It took him a moment before he shook himself back to the present and grinned at them.  
  
“I believe that you two are Fred and George Weasley,” Teddy said matter of factly before he seemed to ponder what he should say next. “At this point in time, the two of you are only dabbling in experimental magic, mostly to pull pranks and such. Though you two will soon be the leaders in experimental magic and the top jokers in all of Wizarding Britain.”  
  
Fred and George looked at each other skeptically for just a moment before they grinned and sat back down as if that was all they needed to hear about their futures. Teddy sighed sadly before he cleared his throat to address the whole school once again.  
  
“My mission is to help your timeline go in a better direction than mine did. I am not here to completely change history, since some things simply need to occur for history to continue, but I am here to make life a little easier for some and maybe prevent some unneeded sadness and confusion for the whole of Hogwarts,” Teddy explained as he took out his wand. With a smooth flick, he motioned for the books he had brought with him to rise and present themselves to the school. “These are the books comprised of the memories of Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Savior of the Wizarding World.”  
  
“Like hell he’ll be saving anyone,” Draco Malfoy scoffed from the Slytherin table, earning himself a round of snickers from those around him. “The fool can’t even make a potion without blowing something up.”  
  
“Can it Malfoy,” Harry snapped bitterly to his long held rival, though he had to be honest with himself and agree that there was no way he could possibly save the entire world. Yeah, he had defeated Voldemort when he was a baby and again in his first year, but he was only one wizard and his luck had to run out some time. He wouldn’t be surprised if the third task did him in at this point and then there would be no saving anyone.  
  
Teddy didn’t even seem to notice the pair’s exchange as he brought the books closer to himself. He plucked the smallest of the books from the air and began to page through it before he thought better of the action.  
  
“I think a few ground rules should be put in place before I begin,” he told the assembled students and adults very seriously. “These books are the complete history of Harry Potter’s time at Hogwarts, at least the Harry Potter up until this morning in your timeline. I have access to the memories of my Harry Potter if we are to continue on to future events, but as of this morning and my arrival your futures are all different from the one I know. As such, the first three and a half volumes will be completely accurate to the world you all know, but beyond that will be your potential future if no lessons are learned from you reviewing the past.  
  
“Now for the rules,” Teddy continued after he took a deep breath, preparing himself to constantly have to keep a reign on the events that were to unfold in front of him so no one got out of hand and the future stayed in reasonable tact. “The past is to remain in the past. What I mean by that is that no one may be punished for acts that they did during these memories nor may anyone be rewarded for their actions. To keep things fair and in the past, nothing like House points nor detention may be discussed during the next few days of reading. We will take breaks for things such as meals and bed and simply to stretch our legs. I can’t control what you discuss while out of the Great Hall, but please be civil and remember that these events occurred in the past. It is up to you to change the future as you see fit once you are aware of the past.”  
  
Teddy looked at each of the tables in turn to make sure that everyone was still paying attention to what he was saying. He sighed when he found that everyone was still watching him closely, even Harry was watching him in interest. This surprised him in many ways, having known the Harry in his time to have hated any sort of attention and having had to be convinced time and again to give his memories for these volumes. Teddy gave an internal sigh in just how different the adult Harry was from the teenage Harry that still had no idea what kind of chaos the world was going to be thrown into if things did not change for the better and fast.  
  
“Shall we get started? The first book is of Harry Potter’s first year and Harry himself titled it as Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,” Teddy called out as he opened the book before him. He almost began reading before he seemed to think better of it and cast a charm on the book instead so that it would read itself out loud to the Great Hall.


	2. The Boy Who Lived, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Hall reads the first half of the first chapter of Philosopher's Stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, of course, do not own Harry Potter and am simply using the text from the book as it is written with commentary added here and there. I do not claim to be the owner of anything, but an idea.

**The Boy Who Lived**

‘Great,’ thought Harry as he kept himself from rolling his eyes at the title of the chapter. ‘It really is about me, just what I need.”

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.**

“Who are these people, Harry?” Neville asked in confusion, not really knowing much about Harry’s home life. It was clear by the looks of confusion around the Great Hall that he was not the only one wondering how these people were involved with Harry Potter.

“They’re my aunt and uncle,” Harry admitted almost ruefully, trying to put a smile on his face even as all of the bitter memories came rushing back to him as he was forced to think about them during his blessed time away from so called home. “My mother’s sister and her husband.”

“I didn’t know Lily had a sister,” Lupin murmured, looking thoughtful as he tried to remember back to his own school days and if Lily ever mentioned a sibling. He knew she had talked about her parents, had even tried to convince James to let her take Harry to them for a visit, but she had never really mentioned any other family around him.

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

Harry was having a hard time not laughing at the description of his aunt and uncle, knowing well that the description was completely accurate, if not very blunt. Other people, not knowing the Dursleys personally, were cringing or looking disgusted at the description of these people.

‘She sounds nothing like Lily,’ a chorused thought went through the minds of Lupin, Padfoot, and McGonagall, all having known just how kind and caring Lily could be towards even the worst of people. None of them could imagine Lily spying on neighbors like her sister apparently loved doing.

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley’s sister, but they hadn’t met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn’t have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn’t want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

“These people are horrible!” Hermione finally squeaked out, her face a flaming red from her effort to hold her tongue as the book spoke. “How could they hate magic so much? To completely shun their family!”

Many people around the Great Hall couldn’t help, but to agree with her, the one most shocked to find themselves agreeing was one Draco Malfoy, who couldn’t believe that Muggles could be so hateful towards those who were magical. Did they know nothing of the Potter family and all they had accomplished? While he knew that they were not a sacred pureblood family, much like his Malfoy family, the Potters were still well respected for what they have done for wizarding kind and for being one of the older families in the Wizarding World. Surely even stupid Muggles could appreciate that?

“I-I’m-” Harry started to answer Hermione’s outburst before he faltered. “I’m not actually sure why Aunt Petunia hated my mum so much. Only that she hated her for being a witch.”

Snape scowled at Harry’s words, knowing full well why Petunia hated Lily so much. Some part of him, likely the part that still loved Lily, wanted to tell Potter that Petunia was simply jealous of her sister, but he failed to see what good that would do. Petunia may have hated Lily, but she raised her nephew anyway, so she likely at least liked him more than his mother.

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

**None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

“I’m sorry Harry, but your family sound like they are ugly, boring people,” Ginny whispered with a cringe. How could the boy that she had had a crush on for so long come from a family that acted like a rampaging child was a joke? Or that treated their own family like trash? She couldn’t imagine how such a kind person like Harry had come from such a household.

**It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

‘That must have been an Animagius,’ Lupin thought, his eyes wandering to McGonagall, knowing full well that she was a cat Animagius. But why would she have been in a Muggle neighborhood? He couldn’t think of a reason if Harry hadn’t already been living there, unless- No. The book couldn’t possibly start on that day of all days.

**But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

“Ugh, he really is the most boring man in the world,” Fred groaned as his head fell onto his twin’s shoulder in exasperation.

“Can he at least talk about something other than how much he dislikes things?” George groaned as well, the two sighing dramatically for the whole hall to hear. This brought some laughter back into the oddly quiet hall as some students couldn’t help but to laugh at the jokesters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him not complain about something,” Harry chuckled, finding the twins’ antics funny enough to break the tension that seemed to be creeping over him the more of the book was read. It really was like the twins broke some kind of spell over the hall as more and more students began to openly smile and laugh at the moment’s reprieve.

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.**

“The man actually stretched his legs?” Ron burst into laughter of the very idea of Vernon Dursley walking anywhere. More laughter stretched across the hall at Ron’s own laughter. Many students were grateful for the Weasley brothers and their jokes as it lightened the tone of the room.

“That must have been the last time he did any sort of exercise,” Harry also laughed, feeling a whole weight lift from his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there. Ron glanced over at the twins and winked, knowing that the two, just like him, knew that this book was going to be difficult for Harry and that it was up to them to lighten things up and get their adoptive brother to laugh his way through all of it.

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

**"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their son, Harry"**

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

“Huh, so the stupid Muggle can think,” Draco Malfoy muttered bitterly to himself, receiving a few snickers from those around him, though he honestly hadn’t meant to be funny. He was honestly amazed that such an idiotic being could think for even a second about something other than food, complaints, or these drill things he kept on about.

**He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her -- if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...**

“Wow, remind us to dress in our robes next time we come to pick you up,” George told Harry with a wink. “Bet he’d just choke on his own mustache in disgust.”

“Nah, I’d bet he’d have an aneurism first,” Fred grinned as if causing Vernon Dursley pain and agitation was the most joyous thing in the world. Harry rolled his eyes at the twins, though he had to admit that their idea sounded great, mostly for the picking him up from the Dursleys part though.

**He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

“How can you be so worried as to walk into someone?” Ginny wondered out loud, trying to imagine being so preoccupied with yourself to not notice others around you. No one seemed to be able to give her a straight answer, especially those who had met Vernon Dursley and knew exactly how large the man was.

**"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

“Anyone else think that was weird, even by wizard standards?” someone called out from the Ravenclaw table, receiving a lot of affirmations in return. Though the younger students were confused, many of the adults in the hall knew exactly what day the scene was taking place now. Some of them had suspected it, but now all of them knew for sure that this was November 1st, the day all of them had found out that You-Know-Who had disappeared. Padfoot seemed to shift uncomfortably as he remembered the day vividly, the day that his world shattered to pieces around him, and he positioned himself more into Harry’s lap so he could feel the reminder that things were working out in the end.

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

“How can you not believe in imagination?” Neville asked out loud, looking over at Luna and then at Harry. “Even Gran wasn’t that strict.”

“Surely they got better with how well you come up with lies,” Hermione said with a stern look, but her tone and the grin slowly growing on her face made it clear that she was completely joking with him. Harry chuckled at her teasing, but held his tongue from letting her know that they actually got worse over the years.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- and it didn't improve his mood -- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

“Have you wondered if cats just know that they upset people?” a Ravenclaw asked out loud, her question echoing around the strangely quiet hall. Professor McGonagall gave a harsh sniff in indignation at the question, knowing full well just why she had been waiting on that wall. It hadn’t mattered to her if that man was upset, she had been thinking about her former and, at the time, future students and the tragic events surrounding them.

**"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

**Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

“He was one, right? And he knew that word?” Ron was in disbelief, knowing full well that most kids didn’t just say won’t at such a young age. Even Draco Malfoy had to agree with the red head. His mother would have punished him even that young if he had told her he wouldn’t do something and she had always been the type to encourage her son to speak his mind.

**"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

**"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

“How did people even find out so quickly what had happened?” Professor Sprout whispered to Professor Flitwick next to her. “I had heard from a friend of mine, but it was nearly evening by then. How had people found out so quickly to have been celebrating the night of?”

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest,” Flitwick whispered back, looking quite thoughtful as he remembered the day in question. “I heard from a student, who had heard from the rumor mill. Where the rumor had started here at Hogwarts is beyond me.”

**Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

‘He really expected for them to have been in communication?’ Snape thought bitterly, shooting a glare towards the book. As much as Lily had tried to send letters to her sister, even using Muggle means, Snape knew that she had given up hope of receiving a letter in return long before they had even graduated, let alone while she was in hiding.

**As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

**Padfoot growled softly against Harry’s leg, receiving a gentle pet in return in order to soothe the tension building in the Animagius. Padfoot was normally very protective, but when he was a dog, the feeling came out all that much more. Especially when it came to the Potters.**

**"No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

**"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."**

**"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.**

**"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."**

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

**"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

**"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

**"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

**"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

“It really is a common name,” Ginny said, though she didn’t sound bitter about it. “I think even Mum and Dad said that they would name a son Harry if they ended up having another kid.”

“Why would they name a kid Harry?” Harry himself wondered in confusion, knowing that a lot of the Weasley boys had been named after members of the family. A lot of people turned to Harry with pointed looks.

“Half of Wizarding Britain thought it would be good luck to name their children after the hero who vanquished He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Lupin explained, having lived through the Harry boom that came shortly after that Halloween night. Harry looked startled at this news and turned a deep shade of red, mumbling to himself something about not being that special as he fixated on toying with Padfoot’s fur.

“In a few years, I’d bet most of the boys in the school will be named Harry,” Lee Jordan put in, receiving upturned hands from the Weasley twins as they accepted his wager with eager grins.

**He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.**

**Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of -- well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

“Most Muggles wouldn’t even believe him if they found out about him being related to wizards,” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in clear agitation. “People just don’t believe in real magic anymore, especially since he himself can’t use it to prove it to them.”

“And no wizard would be stupid enough to help him prove it,” Ginny agreed with her own huff and a roll of her eyes.

**The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind.... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over -- it couldn't affect them....**

**How very wrong he was.**

“I love it when he’s wrong,” Harry sighed blissfully, though he then realized that his uncle being wrong in this case meant that he was about to go live with the Dursleys. He wasn’t sure which was worse, not wanting Vernon Dursley to be right or not wanting to be stuck with his relatives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided it had been too long since I last uploaded a chapter, so here is the first part of the first chapter. I may do more chapters like this, especially the long chapters. 
> 
> Also, I am currently looking for beta readers who would like to help me keep things accurate as well as keep me in check on working. Feel free to send me a message or comment about being a beta reader.


	3. The Boy Who Lived, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the first chapter.
> 
> Book 1- Chapter 1- Part 2

**Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

“What’s so special about that? I swear Crookshanks wouldn’t move if Hermione didn’t pick him up,” Ron remarked with a raised eyebrow, receiving scattered laughs from the other Gryffindor fourth years.

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.**

“And the wizards have finally arrived,” Fred mock whispered to George with a grin, receiving a small shove from Angelina Johnson from his other side. As much as the girl liked the jokes the twins were frequently making, she wanted to know what was going on in this story.

**Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

“Woah, Dumbledore went to a Muggle neighborhood?” a student muttered in shock, voicing what many students were thinking. Who ever thought the Headmaster himself would leave Hogwarts, let alone leave the Wizarding world? A new found respect was held among many of the students for Harry Potter for being the reason their Headmaster went to some unknown area where magic was, as far as they were aware, not allowed.

**Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."**

‘How did he see a cat so far away and know who it was?’ Hermione thought to herself in suspicion. If it really had been the middle of the night and the cat had been on the other end of the street, how did a man, wizard or not, who wore glasses on a regular basis see enough of the cat to recognize who the cat could be? Hermione made a mental not to try looking into this little fact more once they had their first break.

**He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.**

**"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

“What was that Put-Outer, Professor?” the Weasley twins immediately asked upon hearing the description of the device, wanting to know if it was something they could get their hands on for themselves. Dumbledore smiled calmly at the twins and merely chuckled in response, showing no indication that he was going to answer them, though he had a mischievous look in his eyes that suggested something more was playing out in his mind. The twins seemed to know better than to push their luck with their Headmaster and quieted down, though they silently agreed to start toying around with the idea of making one of those Put-Outers for themselves.

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.**

“Wow, Minny used to have black hair?” Fred whispered to George, eyeing their Head of House and her still severe look.

“I always thought she was a natural redhead like us,” George joked with his brother, both of them sniggering under their breath.

**"How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

**"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

**"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

**"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

“How did you pass a dozen parties if you were Apparating?” a Ravenclaw questioned the much older and wiser professor. “I thought Apparition was instantaneous.”

“Well Apparition is a very tricky type of magic,” Professor Flitwick tried to explain and then seemed to be at a loss of how to describe his thoughts properly. “Let’s just say that, if a well trained wizard wishes to, they may, over long distances, see glimpses of the world as they travel.”

“But, Professor, that doesn’t make any sense if we are not actually travelling through the world,” Cho Chang tried to argue with her Head of House, drawing a scattering of chatter from her fellow Ravenclaws as they tried to figure out the finer details of Apparition.

“I will explain in more detail to all who wish to know more,” Professor Flitwick told his chirping Ravenclaws in a calm, but commanding tone. “But you must wait for us to have a break. The book has only just begun and we have had so many questions.”

“I suggest, if I may Filius, that all students should hold their questions, unless absolutely vital, until we break,” Snape suggested, having been tired of all of these interruptions from the very beginning. To him, the sooner they were done with that night and that whole blasted book, the sooner he would be able to put all of this behind him once more. “Then they may ask their questions if they absolutely must.”

**Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

“Do you think anyone else could get angry at Dumbledore and actually show it?” Neville whispered to Ginny, finding his Head of House awe inspiring just from her bravery to be frank with the powerful Headmaster.

**"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

**"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

“Professors?” a young voice from the Hufflepuff table called a bit timidly. “Were things really so bad for so long? Did You-Know-Who really make the world so terrible to live in?”

The professors could really only look at each other as they each tried to come up with a way to answer. Even the youngest among them had been adults at the time of You-Know-Who’s fall and each of them had lost someone or something to the war. Still, to explain such a thing to a child who had never known the world to be so cruel was almost unimaginable to them. The professors’ silence seemed to be an odd cue for the student to drop their question and allow for the book to continue. Maybe they would ask another time, maybe when their professors were not so upset from the book.

None seemed to notice their visitor’s uneasy demeanor as he listened to the questions coming from the students. Teddy didn’t know personally what it had been like to live during a time when Voldemort was alive, but he was an orphan of war and had heard his family speak often enough of the cruelty Voldemort put the world through to know that this topic was not one to face lightly. He wasn’t sure if any of the younger students were actually ready to face the coming war and what it would entail, but he knew that at least Harry and his friends had to hear something about it or they would not be able to prepare.

**"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

**She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"**

**"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

As if that line was the key to break the building tension in the room, many of the Muggleborn students began laughing at the sheer randomness of the question. Without really understanding what was funny, but feeling the tension lift from the room slightly, other students began laughing along with those who understood what a lemon drop was.

McGonagall’s lips twitched as if she wanted to smile as well at the memory and the relief she felt that her students could find something to laugh at during this experience.

Dumbledore, as well, smiled gently as if he knew now as he did then that this line was exactly what was needed in the moment. He may not know how the author of this book, if it truly was Harry Potter or not, knew he had said that, but he was grateful they had included it so it could continue to ease tension.

**"A what?"**

**"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"**

**"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"**

**"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.”**

There were so many gasps across the Great Hall at Voldemort’s name being called out of the book, it was almost like one collective gasp from a giant. Harry noticed that their visitor only rolled his eyes at their reaction, as if Voldemort’s name was no big deal to him. This action made Harry all the more curious about this stranger since the only person he really ever saw shrug off Voldemort’s name was Dumbledore himself. Yet, this man didn’t seem to be close to Dumbledore, at least they seemed to act like simple associates in front of the rest of the Hall. Harry thought that he might need to find out more about this Teddy person and see if he really wasn’t scared of Voldemort like others seemed to be.

**"I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."**

**"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

**"Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them."**

**"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

A mixture of fake gagging, laughter, and other sounds of children in mock disgust rang around the room at Dumbledore’s words. The very idea of a professor blushing from compliments made the children of the school cringe as one. They didn’t want to think of their professors having personal lives, especially personal lives that made them blush, preferring to think of their professors simply as the adults that taught classes all day and nothing more.

The adults, on the other hand, knew full well that Dumbledore hadn’t actually been blushing. Dumbledore never blushed when complimented for he knew full well the extent of his abilities and what everyone thought of him, so no comment was going to take him by surprise enough to make him blush. Even the older staff, like McGonagall herself who had worked under Dumbledore for decades at that point, hadn’t seen him blush in recent memory.

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

**"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. "**

“Godric’s Hollow? Where’s that?” Harry asked in confusion. He had figured that his parents had lived in some flat in London or with his Grandparents, if his dad’s parents had even still been alive at the time. Lupin sputtered at the question and many of the pureblood students around him stared at Harry in shock.

“Godric’s Hollow is one of the most famous wizarding neighborhoods in all of Europe,” Draco Malfoy drawled with a roll of his eyes like the information should be the most obvious thing in the world. “Does Saint Potter not even know where there are monuments to him?”

“M-Monuments?” Harry stammered in disbelief, looking towards his friends at the Gryffindor table for confirmation. Surely there wouldn’t be something like that in the world no matter what he had done as a baby. The looks on his friends faces were a clear enough indication that he was very, very wrong.

“Godric’s Hollow has the most visited one in the world, since that was your home, but there are shrines and statues all over dedicated to you and your parents,” Ginny told him quietly, slightly embarrassed by the almost worshiping she had witnessed at one of these monuments when she had been a little girl and had begged her mother to take her to one.

“S-Seriously?” Harry laughed in complete disbelief, running a hand through his already messy hair. A stern cough brought their attention back to the Head Table and the book that had yet to even finish the first chapter.

Teddy could have almost cringed at Harry’s disbelief before they had been brought back to the book. If he thought the monuments from the First War had been too much, wait until he saw all of the monuments that, though Harry adamantly asked not to be built, kept popping up in even the strangest and most unlikely places all over the world.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.**

**"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."**

**Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.**

Sniffles could be heard as many of the students tried to hold back their tears. It was one thing to know about what Harry Potter had done, it was another to be faced with the fact that he lost his parents the very same night he became famous. Most people seemed to gloss over or completely ignore the fact that two people lost their lives that night, but this book thrust them all directly into thinking about that tragedy.

Harry himself couldn’t understand his own feelings at that moment. Of course he knew he had lost his parents and knew the full story of that night, but he seemed almost numb as he realized that now everyone was hearing about the loss of his parents. He had always thought that their loss was an almost private matter, but this book was proving him very wrong on so many things.

**Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone.**

**Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

**"It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

**"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

Murmurs made their rounds across the Great Hall from students being intrigued by how Harry could have possibly defeated Voldemort. Of course, many people had been curious before, but none had thought to voice their questions until they heard that McGonagall herself had questioned the events. No one seemed to want to speak up with their questions or opinions, however, so the story could continue on.

**Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

**"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"**

**"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

Remus and Sirius seemed to growl low at the same time, knowing full well that Harry had family with them even if they weren’t blood related. While they understood why Dumbledore took Harry to Lily’s family, they had only wished they could have raised him themselves, especially now that they knew just how horrible these people actually were. Harry reached out to Remus and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the arm, trying to convey that he knew they were his actual family, not the Dursleys.

**"You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

As much as they may have wanted to, many students chose to simply show their disgust at Dudley with their expressions rather than interrupt the story as the chapter was clearly reaching a climax.

**"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

‘Which they didn’t,’ Harry thought bitterly, scowling at the book instead of the Headmaster, whom he was beginning to find was making more and more mistakes with his judgement.

**"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!"**

“Yes, give Potter a fanclub while you’re at it,” Draco drawled quietly and very bitterly, glaring at the book so the Professor suggesting such things wouldn’t get on to him. “Like he needs even more of a reason for people to fall over themselves for him.”

**"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

**Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

“Wouldn’t that be a great way to travel?” Seamus muttered to Dean next to him in a very sarcastic tone. “Tucked inta some fella’s robe like that?”

Dean could hardly contain his laughter at his best friend’s joke, not wanting to ruin the serious tone that the book was creating.

**"Hagrid's bringing him."**

**"You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

**“I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

“Here here!” Harry called out with half the Gryffindor table cheering in agreement.There was clear favouritism for the large man from the braver house, but if someone looked close, they would also see several Hufflepuff students nodding in agreement for the love of the gameskeeper.

**"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?"**

**A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

“Wicked,” Ron breathed at the description, receiving a bark from Padfoot. The dog clearly showed pride at the response to the vehicle, confusing many around them who weren’t aware of the dog’s true form.

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

**"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

**"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."**

**"No problems, were there?"**

**"No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

“Oh, Harry, you were so cute,” Hermione gushed as Ginny verbally awed at Harry’s description, causing the now teenage Harry to blush in embarrassment. No teen wanted people to coo over their baby pictures and this book’s description of him might as well have been a picture to many of the girls in the Great Hall.

**"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

**"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

**"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

**"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with."**

**Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.**

**"Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

**"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

**"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"**

**"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

**"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

**"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

“Never did get the chance to give it back to ‘im,” Hagrid said thoughtfully, trying to remember the rest of the night that was strangely blurry from then on.

**Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

**"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

**Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

**"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

**A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"**

“Ah, it seems we have reached the end of the first chapter,” Dumbledore called out when the book gave a long pause. It was then that, to everyone’s great surprise, Teddy’s chair seemed to fly back and crash to the ground. The man was clearly furious and those closer to the Head Table could see his sandy colored hair rapidly turning a deeper shade of red as if someone had poured a potion over it.

“That’s it? You just left him there?” Teddy seethed, his voice barely audible, but loud enough for the whole hall to hear in the eerie silence that had fallen. His furious gaze rounded onto Dumbledore, a man that he knew all about, but could not respect like those of this time. He had heard the bitterness in his Harry’s voice whenever Dumbledore had been brought up in the future, he had known that this man’s plans would be risky, but to hear firsthand how he treated Harry as a baby was just the final straw to push Teddy over the edge. This was his Harry they were talking about and Teddy would be damned before anyone mistreated his father figure.

“You left a baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night in October? He could have died! He could have crawled away! Someone could have kidnapped him!” Teddy yelled at the much, much older man. The Hall was stunned silent at someone actually yelling at Dumbledore. “If you were going to leave him there, you might as well have woken the damn Muggles up and told them everything!

“What would you have done if they had just given him away? What would you have done if some crazed Death Eater had come after him?” Teddy continued on, his hair turning almost into flames in color as he continued to yell. Dumbledore simply stared at Teddy in silence, as if the fury did not surprise him nearly as much as it surprised the rest of the hall in that moment. “You should have left him with Sirius Black or Remus Lupin or any other goddamn wizard that actually cared about him.”

“Th-That’s enough,” McGonagall ordered of the now redhead, beginning to stand from her seat on the opposite side of Dumbledore. Teddy actually seemed to flinch back from the order as if he knew well what consequences from McGonagall could be like. Dumbledore, on the other hand, held up his hand to give his deputy pause so he could address Teddy himself.

“I believe we agreed that any action made before this moment could not be judged because they could not be taken back?” Dumbledore calmly pointed out, his voice ringing across the Great Hall as if he was addressing everyone in the room as well as Teddy. “Many mistakes were made during that time, but I do not regret leaving Harry Potter with his relatives in Privet Drive because their raising of him, whether good or bad, is the exact reason we have the Harry we have today. The reason the Harry of your time became such a hero.”

Teddy seemed to falter even further in his fury as he was caught in his own rules. He should have known this ordeal would have been difficult for him just as much as it was for those in the past, but he hadn’t thought things would have affected him so much so soon. He sank back into his seat as if the life had been drawn out of his legs and did not argue as the book continued on to the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try for posting every month, but I can't promise to keep that schedule with a toddler ruling my life. 
> 
> That being said, I would love to have more beta readers if anyone is interested! Just message me here or through my email, which you can find on my profile, to find out more!


	4. The Vanishing Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Hall is stunned to discover how Harry grew up.

**CHAPTER TWO**

**THE VANISHING GLASS**

**Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -- but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.**

“How did you not make any sign of living there? Did you just never go home?” Neville asked in confusion, thinking of his own room at his Grandmother’s house and all of the things that clearly made it his even while he was away at Hogwarts for most of the year.

“I wish it had been something like that,” Harry muttered bitterly, but ignored the looks his friends gave him to try to focus on the book. Hopefully it didn’t go into too much detail about his life with the Dursleys. He wasn’t sure if he could put up with all of the questions and pitiful looks people would give him once they knew how he had been treated as a child. Now that he was a teenager and spent most of his holidays with the Weasleys, he really didn’t have much going on at his aunt and uncle’s home. Sure, he still had his room and they were still a nightmare sometimes, but nothing like before his eleventh birthday.

**Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.**

**"Up! Get up! Now!"**

“Rude,” Hermione sniffed, her lips pursing at the very idea of being woken up like that. It was as if Harry’s aunt was talking to a cat or a dog, or even less than that.

**Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.**

**"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

Padfoot barked cheerfully at the knowledge that Harry somehow remembered his bike, even if it was in a dream. He couldn’t help but do a little spin in excitement and wag his tail as he grinned at his godson, who laughed and patted him on his head.

**His aunt was back outside the door.**

**"Are you up yet?" she demanded.**

**"Nearly," said Harry.**

**"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."**

“They had you cook? At ten?” Lupin asked Harry in a dangerously low and calm tone. Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture he unknowingly had inherited from his father that was now a dead giveaway to other Marauders just how anxious he was.

“Y-Yeah, but not much,” Harry admitted quietly, though he couldn’t quite look at Remus or Sirius in that moment. Padfoot growled softly at his side as Remus’ eyes narrowed at the young teen.

“And exactly how long had you been… helping in the kitchen?” Lupin asked, still in his far too quiet tone.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, trying to think of the right answer to get him out of this line of questioning. “Shouldn’t we just let the book continue and talk about this later?”

“Don’t think I’ll be forgetting, Mr. Potter,” Lupin told him, conceding for the moment, but only just. Harry almost let out a sigh of relief had it not been for the tone Lupin was using, indicating that he really wasn’t going to get out of telling them all about his chores at the Dursley’s.

**Harry groaned.**

**"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.**

**"Nothing, nothing..."**

**Dudley's birthday -- how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.**

The silence in the Great Hall could have made a mime proud. Harry was worried that this little fact about his childhood would be brought up eventually, but he hadn’t thought so quickly in these books. He determinedly stared at the table so as to avoid all of the looks of either pity or surprise that were directed at him. This was not the kind of attention he wanted, not that he wanted attention in the first place.

Teddy cringed from where he could clearly see Harry. Of course he knew all about Harry’s childhood, it had been the consistent reasoning as to why Harry never outright punished Teddy for the things he did as a rambunctious and rebellious child. Knowledge of the past only made watching things unfold even worse, however, as he watched as more and more people seemed to realize that their hero, their idol had been greatly abused as a child.

“A-A cupboard? Under the stairs?” Ron asked in quiet shock. He and Harry had talked about all kinds of things and he knew that the Dursley’s were crazy, especially after the stunt they had pulled before their second year, but to make a child sleep under the stairs with spiders was just nightmare fuelled cruelty. Hermione seemed to be at a loss for words as she desperately tried to control the tears in her eyes.

“Harry,” everyone was surprised to find that it was Neville’s calm and strangely firm voice that spoke out. His tone brought Harry’s immediate attention and the less fair boy was met with determined and faintly haunted eyes that seemed to bore directly into him down to that inner child still locked away in that cupboard. “I’m not sure how, but I’m sure the Potters and the Longbottoms are related somehow. You can come live with me and Gran if you want.”

“Th-Thanks Neville,” Harry stammered quietly, unsure of how to actually react to the offer. Several other people were nodding their heads all around them and some looked ready to speak up and give the same offer. “But I don’t know if I would actually leave now. Things are a lot better since I learned I am a wizard and I hardly see them during the summer, so there’s not much point in fussing over actually moving until I graduate is there?”

“But Harry-” Ginny began, trying to reason to the boy so close to her but seemingly so far away at times like these, but was cut off by Harry’s humourless laugh.

“Besides, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why they are my guardians and not another wizard,” Harry said offhandedly like it wasn’t the burning question this book was making more and more people think about. “The book will probably explain at some point.”

**When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise -- unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.**

“No wonder you were a natural Seeker,” Angelina said in a tone that suggested she had solved a long held mystery. The other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team nodded in understanding, having had several late nights debating how Harry could be so skilled when he hadn’t even flown a broom before coming to Hogwarts. It was few and far between to find a Muggleborn that took to Quidditch, or even flying, so to have Harry outshine them all had nagged at them for years.

**Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.**

“Wait, wait, you actually liked your scar?” Dean asked in confusion, knowing full well, like most of the Gryffindor boys who got ready with Harry, that Harry tried his hardest to hide his scar as much as he possibly could and could spend more time combing his bangs over his scar than the rest of his routine put together. Harry could only shrug because he couldn’t honestly remember actually liking the scar, just favoring it more than the rest of his appearance.

**"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."**

**Don't ask questions -- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.**

“But then how will you ever learn?” Luna Lovegood asked in her faraway voice, sounding more half asleep than attentively listening to the book, though her eyes burned with wanting for more information than the book was giving them about the situation Harry had grown up in. Like many others that were friends with Harry, she didn’t know much about him outside of Hogwarts, so finding out about his childhood was all new and exciting for her.

**Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.**

**"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.**

**About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way -- all over the place.**

“Just like your father,” Remus chuckled with a small shake of his head in exasperation. This comment actually made Harry smile slightly for he never tired of hearing how much like his father he was.

**Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel -- Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

Boisterous laughter erupted from the Weasley twins at the description with several other students around the Great Hall snickering as they imagined what a pig would look like wearing a wig.

“That is so accurate it hurts,” Fred wailed through his laughter, clutching at his side where stitches had formed from laughing so hard.

**Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.**

**"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."**

“Thirty-six? What in the world is the fat Muggle going to do with thirty-six presents? Eat them?” Draco Malfoy said snidely, much to the amusement of the Slytherins around him. “Not even my parents would be daft enough to get thirty-six presents for me.”

Harry tried to be angry at Malfoy’s comment about his cousin, but couldn’t find much fault in the comment given Harry honestly thought along the same lines every year he had to watch Dudley open the ever growing pile of presents. Harry bit his tongue as images of Christmas at the Dursley’s came to mind, which were, unbelievably, worse than Dudley’s birthday. The living room was always so packed on Christmas morning with presents for Dudley that it was as if they had baby Jesus himself in their household.

**"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."**

**"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.**

“D-Did he do that often?” Ginny asked in a mix of disbelief and disgust. She knew full well that if any of her siblings tried that with their mother’s table, they would be hexed into the next century and then made to clean up the mess all by themselves.

Harry tried to think back to Dudley during their childhood and could only hesitantly nod. There wasn’t much that could make Dudley sacrifice food, but not getting his way, especially on his birthday, was one of them.

**Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?''**

**Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."**

**"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.**

**"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."**

**Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

“It’s as if they want the child to grow up spoilt rotten,” Professor Sprout muttered under her breath to Madame Pomfrey next to her. “I have never seen such an ungrateful and selfish child in my life.”

“This kind of behavior will undoubtedly ruin the child and the parents,” Madame Pomfrey agreed with a cold sniff towards the book. What the two very maternal women would do if they could get ahold of Harry Potter’s cousin for just a few hours.

**At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.**

**"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.**

**Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.**

“That’s why you were so surprised to celebrate birthdays at my place,” Ron said with a swift smack of his head as if this explained so much of his best friend’s behavior. “Your stupid aunt and uncle just don’t know how to throw a proper party.”

“Come now, little brother,” George said with a laugh and a very holier-than-thou tone to his voice. “You can’t expect everyone’s mother to host soirées as grand as ours.”

Ron could only roll his eyes and chuck a napkin off the table at his older brother, who broke into a fit of laughter along with his twin.

**"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.**

**"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.**

**"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

**The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there -- or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.**

Though he didn’t show it and although he knew very well just how cruel Petunia could be, Snape was very surprised by this developing scene from the book. He had been so sure that Potter’s family had spoiled him rotten or had, at the very least, treated him well by the way Potter had acted during his first year. Thinking back, however, Snape quickly found that he didn’t really know how Potter truly acted as a First Year since so much was going on with Quirrell. Could he have actually made a mistake about Potter?

**"What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?"**

**"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.**

**"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).**

“Bad move, mate,” Dean cringed, knowing that Harry’s boldness tended to not pan out well for his Housemate.

**Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.**

**"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.**

**"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.**

**"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car...."**

“Did she really suggest leaving you in a car?” Hermione asked in astonishment, her voice tight with her mix of fury and surprise. “A child? In the summer heat? Is she mad?”

**"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone...."**

**Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying -- it had been years since he'd really cried -- but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

**"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.**

**"I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.**

Hermione could only groan her disgust as she allowed her head to sink into her hands. On one hand, she loved learning more about one of her best friends and their childhood, but the more dominant hand had her in a fit over the way Harry’s relatives behaved. What she would do to get the chance to curse them all for the torment they were putting everyone, especially Harry, through.

**Just then, the doorbell rang -- "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically -- and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.**

**Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.**

**"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy -- any funny business, anything at all -- and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."**

**"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..**

**But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.**

As much as he really didn’t want this day to be broadcast to the whole school, something about the look of stunned rage on Hermione’s face made Harry begin to laugh hysterically. He knew his friends were protective of him, especially the mother hen Hermione, which was why he never wanted to tell them about his childhood. Yet the way Hermione was just beyond rage at this point made him feel strangely relieved and incredibly loved by his friends and so grateful to not be in that situation any more.

**The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.**

**Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.**

“Remember when Ron cut Ginny’s hair, but was so scared of the way Mum would react that he grew is back?” Fred mock whispered to his twin, watching his younger brother’s face closely so he could see the embarrassed pink creep up his neck and to his cheeks and ears.

“Or the time he got so mad at Percy that his hair turned black?” George ‘whispered’ back, both of them devolving into laughter at their younger brother’s expense.

“Hey, I remember a time when you two got so tired of being twins that you both changed your faces only to have them be the exact same new face,” Ginny shot back at the twins with a triumphant look, defending the silently fuming brother next to her that looked more like a fish on land than a competent teen. This comment quickly shut the twins up and made them duck their heads to hide their embarrassment as the rest of the table around them laughed heartily.

**Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls) -- The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.**

**On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid- jump.**

“Y-You accidentally Apparated?” Lupin asked the young wizard next to him with wide eyes of amazement, mirroring the same look many of the other adults in the room were having. They all had to admit that Harry was particularly gifted with his magical ability, but to have him use Accidental Magic to Apparate was just astonishing. Harry could only shrug because he still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened that day on the roof, all he could remember at this point was the feeling of wanting to get away from his cousin.

**But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.**

**While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.**

**"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.**

**“I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."**

“Ah, bad move mate,” the three Weasley brothers around Harry cringed, knowing exactly where this was going to go.

“Sometimes it would be better for you to keep your mouth shut,” Angelina scolded Harry, knowing full well how much trouble the younger teen’s thoughtless comments have gotten him in over the last couple of years. The whole of the Gryffindor Quidditch team could recall time after time of Harry earning them extra practice because of some offhand comment or another towards Oliver Wood, it wasn’t something any of them were about to let him live down.

**Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"**

**Dudley and Piers sniggered.**

**“I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."**

**But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon -- they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.**

“More like you’d realize that you were more than their so called sense of normality,” Hermione snapped at the book from between pursed lips. Oh what she would do to these so called people who give all Muggles a bad reputation. She couldn’t imagine how such a kind person like Harry could have been raised by such cruel people.

**It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.**

**Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.**

**Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.**

“I was going to say, when has your luck ever lasted so long?” Ron chuckled only to receive a playful shove from his best friend, who couldn’t help but to smile at the comment. If anyone, Ron would know full well about Harry’s luck, or lack thereof, with all of the adventures they’ve been on in the last three years.

**After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can -- but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.**

**Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.**

**"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.**

**"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.**

**"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.**

**Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself -- no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.**

“Comparing yourself to a snake there, Potter? You sure you weren’t just dreaming of being a Slytherin?” Draco called over in a haughty tone, receiving laughter from the other Slytherins around him.

“In your dreams, Malfoy,” Harry spat back, shooting a glare at the blonde before pointedly turning back to the book. With his back turned, he couldn’t see Draco narrow his eyes at him in suspicion. Surely Potter wasn’t about to start ignoring their banter? He so reliably retorted whenever they got riled up that Draco couldn’t imagine his school life without some sort of blows being exchanged each day. Life would simply be boring if Potter started ignoring him.

**The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.**

**It winked.**

**Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.**

**The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:**

**"I get that all the time.”**

**"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."**

**The snake nodded vigorously.**

**"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.**

**The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.**

**Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

**"Was it nice there?"**

**The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see -- so you've never been to Brazil?"**

**As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.**

**"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

“Go away you stupid kid, I wanted to know if the snake had been to Brazil or not!” George called out dramatically in a very serious tone that did not match the fake scowl on his face.

“Now we’ll never get to know if the snake has been to his homeland or not,” Fred sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, drawing even more laughs out of the hall full of students.

“I never did find out where that snake ended up,” Harry said thoughtfully, trying to think if he had heard anything more about the snake that had escaped or if there simply hadn’t been more reports while he was actually paying attention.

“Ended up?” Lupin repeated with a raised eyebrow, now curious about what happened with this snake that was clearly Harry’s first taste of actively using his magic. Who would have thought that Harry’s first conscious use of magic would be to use his Parselmouth.

**Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.**

**"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened -- one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.**

**Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.**

Once again, the twins led the charge of laughter that erupted around the Great Hall. Even Harry had to laugh as he recalled everyone’s expression when the snake had escaped, especially Dudley’s as he got trapped in the snake’s pen. If only he had known that he was in fact the one to cause his cousin’s punishment, that would have been the only thing to have sweetened the situation and made his punishment afterwards all the more worth it.

**As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come.... Thanksss, amigo."**

**The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"**

**The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"**

**Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go -- cupboard -- stay -- no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

“No meals?” half the girls around Harry repeated in disgust, their more maternal sides coming out with the new information. Harry could only cringe at the pitying looks people were starting to give him.

“No wonder you are so small,” Angelina said in a worried tone. “You just didn’t get enough nutrition as a child.”

“I can assure you that his father was quite small for his age as well,” Lupin informed the room with a faint smile, though he was internally keeping track of all of the acts of cruelty the Dursleys had gotten away with until now so he could fight for Harry’s well being later. “But this does explain quite a lot about the way you behave, Harry.”

**Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.**

“Boy after our own hearts,” the Weasley twins chuckled at the knowledge that Harry was sneaking around long before he was getting into trouble here at Hogwarts. To be honest, though, they wished he hadn’t needed to be so sneaky before they had met him and taught him their ways.

**He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.**

**When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.**

**At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.**

“It appears that is the end of the chapter,” Dumbledore called to the Great Hall in what sounded like a tired tone. Everyone in the hall seemed to have aged years by the last chapter, even with all of the interruptions that brought laughter. “Possibly now would be a good time to take our first break. Shall we meet back for the next chapter in, say, one hour? Please go get some fresh air and stretch your legs everyone.”

Harry didn’t have to be told twice to escape from the Great Hall before anyone could interrogate him, though Padfoot was hot on his heels as he left. Hermione moved to follow after them, but a gentle hand from Ron kept her with their other friends. They were all worried about Harry and how he was taking everyone finding out about his life so far, but they all knew the way Harry was now and that gave them some comfort for the time being. They knew he would come find them when he was ready to talk. For now, they had a lot to discuss and a few owls to be sent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading everyone! I am still looking for more beta readers, so please email me if you are interested in becoming one!


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